“It doesn’t have to be romantic. It could be, you know, fun.”
“Oh, it was fun,” I agreed, laughing. “I could totally see both of them in bed.”
“Both?” Meara sounded shocked.
“There were two of them, Caleb, my boss, and his friend, Warren.”
“You wouldn’t just give one of them to your beloved sister?”
“Get your own,” I snapped playfully.
“Oh, I see,” she bantered back. “It takes two men to satisfy you.”
“Actually…,” I sighed, leaning against the white stone counter.
“What?”
“There’s this guy I saw a few days ago,” I confessed. “I told you about him over breakfast last week.”
“The one in the red jacket.”
“That’s him.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Caleb mentioned he’s a Russian who works in the big business school.”
“Well, there can’t be that many Russians working there,” she suggested. “Go research the school, see if you can find him on the website. Do a little detective work to find your mystery man!”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
My sister grinned, her gold earrings catching the light. “I have my moments.”
Meara stood up and bent over me to give me a kiss. I turned my cheek to allow her access, and then reached up to hold her steady as I repaid the favor. She checked her watch again and squealed.
“Oh, they’re here!” she announced. “Bye. Don’t wait up.”
“I won’t,” I sang, following her to the door. As she exited, I locked the door behind her, sealing myself in.
I looked at my phone. It was only four, so… how long was she going to be gone? Well, maybe she was hoping whoever was waiting down in our lobby would offer to take her home. My fingers crossed for Meara.
At least one of us should be getting lucky.
Heading over to the couch, I pulled my laptop from the glass coffee table and settled in for the afternoon. I couldn’t believe it took my twin to make me realize the obvious. I navigated to the university’s website, heading over to Booth’s page. With his small smile a fixture in my mind, I knew exactly what I was looking for. My face lit up the moment that the page loaded with his thumbnail portrait.
“Vladimir Pechenko,” I read aloud, loving how the name sounded.
Vladimir had been born in Russia, but he moved stateside as a teenager with some flashy private school scholarship. As I looked through his credentials, I could see why. He was published in dozens of financial journals, had gone on lecture tours, and was featured on several morning shows as an economic expert. I wasn’t surprised, though.
I bet the camera loved his face.
I bet I could love even more of him too.
I blushed, somehow both bashful and giddy at the same time. I barely knew the guy, and I’d never heard him talk.
“Don’t start getting greedy, Mills,” I reminded myself. “He could be taken.”
There were a lot of possibilities. Vladimir could be married, gay, or very much attracted to me. My fingers, toes, and eyes were cross, all hoping it was the last one.